... to slam the door impulusively on the past. to shed everything down to my last piece of clothing, to break the pattern of my life, that complex design i have been weaving since birth will all its dark threads
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alone, asleep one night i dreamed a dream of a million dreams and in each dream was a person i knew each with a heart empty, true and as the dreams scrolled one by one the friends i saw all became none and on the last dream i stood alone slowly fading away but the one last heart held by me was the heart that held all my dreams